


Five Lost Moments

by IMelopsittacus



Category: Lost
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt, FMI, Five Moments of Intimacy, Fluff, Gen, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-16 06:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMelopsittacus/pseuds/IMelopsittacus
Summary: Five moments of intimacy between some Lost characters and the leader of some Others.





	1. Jack

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Five Moments of Intimacy: A Demonstration of Form](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14751425) by [Zaniida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaniida/pseuds/Zaniida). 



> So, I was working on my fic and all of a sudden, there was this really kind message in my inbox. Zaniida encouraged me to expand my horizon, pointing me in the direction of [this series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1031027)
> 
> Needless to say that my mind got carried away with a certain character. I mean, what kinds of intimacy would a man like that experience? Would he even be able to connect with other people in a meaningful way?
> 
> This is an attempt to find some interesting moments in the life of Benjamin Linus. (Yes, I really like the guy, in case you hadn't noticed.)
> 
> Let me know what you think. Did I do this right? Did I miss any tags?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Physical Intimacy (grooming, touch, sensuality, nudity, first aid or medical care)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not what you think. (Or maybe it is.)

“What the hell is going on?”

There’s a stranger in the hatch; a small man with a huge arrow in his shoulder. John and Sayid are interrogating the guy, even though it's he clear he needs medical attention.

After scolding both men for their actions, I busy myself examining the man while Sayid gives me the background information. Henry, he calls himself. I don’t know if it’s true—probably not. They brought him in like that; injured, delirious, shivering in shock.

Well, let’s get him patched up first. “Hey, you with me?”

The man nods even though his body is shivering violently. Good, he’s not nearly dead—yet.

A closer inspection reveals that the arrow has done surprisingly little damage. Once I snap off the protruding end of the shaft, I can pull out the other half without further injury to the surrounding area.

By the time I’m done, the man is unconscious. I’m glad for him not to be present for the cleaning and stitching of the wound; I can only imagine how painful it must be.

John and Sayid help me put him in a room with a lock. We can keep him there until he wakes up. Sure, he may be one of _them_ , but that’s no reason not to treat him well. 

Before I can get a cot for him to lie on, I hear the door being slammed shut and locked. I stare at John. What the hell?

"This has to happen, Jack."

Apparently, they changed the code of the lock. I can't get in, and John isn't willing to help me. I can hear the man pleading, begging for mercy. His cries of pain cut me to the bone. This isn’t right!

Frustrated, I pace back and forth, trying to reason with John. In the end, I manage to force John to open the door and I wrestle Sayid forcefully out of the room.

One look at our prisoner reveals a lot more blood than before. Dammit Sayid! That’s no way to treat an injured man.

After shouting some more at both men, I grab my medical supplies and enter the room. The man flinches and tries to crawl away from me. It looks like Sayid tied him down so well, he can't even stand up. Damn that Iraqi.

I slowly approach the man. Hands raised, showing him my medical supplies—like approaching a wild animal. “It’s okay, I’m not going hurt you. Let me look at your injuries.”

Apprehension in his eyes, the man gives me a nod before wincing in pain.

I carefully look him over. Lots of bruises, a broken nose, and not a few cuts. The injury on his shoulder is bleeding again. Looks like I need to stitch him up again.

He flinches every time I dab alcohol on his wounds, but never makes a sound, not even when my needle pierces his skin.

To distract him somewhat from the pain I try to strike up a conversation.

“I’m Jack by the way.”

“H-Henry. Henry Gale.”


	2. Ilana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2\. Emotional Intimacy (sharing the same strong emotion, or having one character go through emotions while the other comforts them)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not very often we get a glimpse of what's under the surface.

That bastard!  

The moment he looked at me, I could see it in his eyes—he was going to run. Before I can react, he tosses his shovel over his shoulder and makes a run for it. I knew it!  

Well, he’s not going to escape from me. 

The squirrelly little man ahead of me dashes through the jungle, frantically looking around. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I’m not going to let him find it. If only he would stay still long enough for me to get a clear shot. 

The wild chase ends in a clearing where the man whirls around and points a gun at me. Where did that come from?

I scramble to a halt, staring at the muzzle of the rifle. I scoff, is this how it will end for me?  

Reluctantly, I drop my own gun and raise my hands. “What are you waiting for?”  

To my surprise, the man looks even more scared than before, even though he’s the one pointing a gun at me. He’s panting, his hands tremble. “I want to explain.”  

I don’t understand. He is a murderer, he killed a lot of people. He killed the one person I loved in this world.  

The man must’ve seen a question in my eyes, because he does explain. With a trembling voice, he talks about his own loss, his anger, and his betrayal by the one person he devoted his life to—the same person I devoted my life to. 

The gun in his hand wavers, then lowers. I can see it in his eyes; he isn’t going to shoot me, he’s just desperate for a way out.  

I ask him. “What do you want?”  

His voice wavers, almost breaks. “Just- just let me go.”  

“Where will you go?”  

A beat, then, “to Locke.”  

I scoff, why would he seek out that monster? “Why?” 

“B-because he’s the only one that’ll have me.” His voice breaks, and he nearly breaks too. 

I study the pathetic little man in front of me. Shoulders slumped, gun forgotten in his hand. He is completely broken. A shadow of his former self. 

I should feel something; anger, disgust, or even hate for what he did to all those people. To Jacob. There’s none of that. All I feel is pity. Pity for a man who destroyed his own life so completely that he is willing to side with that… that evil creature. 

Although Benjamin and I are so completely different, I can’t hate him. Not really, not after what I’ve seen just now. I believe him, every word, even though lies pour out of him every time he opens his mouth. 

I swallow the lump in my throat, there’s only one thing I can do. 

“I’ll have you.” 

His eyes go wide, his mouth drops open. He’s staring at me, barely trusting his own ears. 

It hurts me to say those words, but it’s the right thing to do.  

I can’t bear to look at him any longer; who knew that forgiving can be so hard?  

I turn around, pick up my gun, and walk away quickly.  

A moment later I hear his unsteady footsteps behind me.

I don’t look back. 

 


	3. Hugo (Hurley for friends)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. Experiential Intimacy (letting your hair down together, sharing an experience)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurley always knows how to lift people's spirits.

We’ve been walking through the jungle for the better part of the day and it’s getting dark, when I suddenly realise our surroundings look familiar. I know where we are! Just behind those trees is the cabin they are looking for. Well, John is, I don’t really know why the scary dude is tagging along. 

I’m exhausted and hungry and I really don’t want to go near that creepy hut again. Ever. No way, dude. John just looks at me for a moment, and then tells me to wait here for them.

Ben declines his invitation too; apparently the creepy cult leader isn’t too keen on haunted houses as well.

Together we watch as John shrugs off his pack and disappears in the jungle. 

This whole place creeps me out, present company included. Maybe it would help if we had a fire. Yes, fires always give comfort.

I sneak a glance at Mr. Other. He’s moving around in the underbrush, collecting firewood. I guess he has the same idea. I go look for dry branches in the opposite direction, to you know, cover more ground.

When I get back, Ben has already begun to build a small fire. I suppose you learn that sort of skills when you live in the jungle instead of civilisation. 

I drag a smallish log a little closer to the fire, because it gets a little chilly when the sun goes down. Who knew you can get cold on a tropical island?

I sit down on the log, staring into the fire, wondering if and when John is coming back. 

Ben is sort of hovering around the fire, doesn’t sit down next to me. This is getting awkward, with me and the evil genius not talking to each other. 

I catch his eyes and nod to the space beside me. “Hey dude, you can sit down next to me if you want, I don’t bite.”  

At that, the fearsome leader of the Others glances at me and gives me a small shy smile before he hesitantly sits down at the other end of the log. He says nothing and keeps staring into the fire, a wistful look on his face. 

Dude, he seems so self-conscious. Not at all how he acted when he held us hostage. What happened to him?

Suddenly my stomach growls. Ben’s lips quiver in a shadow of a smile.

I reach into my pack and rummage around until I find what I’m looking for—a protein bar. I pull it out and peel the plastic wrapper away. Someone's staring at me, I can just feel it. 

Looking beside me, I see Ben’s eyes curiously following what I’m doing. His eyebrows raise when he sees me staring at him. Without a word I divide the snack and offer him one half.

For a moment he just blinks. His surprise is evident when he glances at me before his eyes dart to my hand. With a look of gratitude, he clumsily reaches out to take the offering.  

I give him a smile and together we munch on our food in companionable silence.

He isn’t so bad when you get to know him a little better. 

Even though he did do all that bad stuff and all.


	4. John (Or is he?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. Secret Sharing (opening up to someone about a hidden part of yourself, something you don't want to share with everyone)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was difficult to write. There's a reason Ben is so good at what he does. He always keeps his eyes and ears open—and his mouth shut.

The man is sitting on the beach, a little distance away from the others—literal Others. I never understood the need of these humans to divide themselves into groups and then proceed to try to kill each other.

After checking up on my people, I approach him quietly; my footsteps muffled by the loose sand.

The man doesn't flinch, he doesn't even acknowledge me. Elbows on his knees, staring out at the ocean. He looks like I feel some, most, days, yearning to leave this place.

He seems different from the man in my, well, Locke's, memory. Subdued, sad. After meeting the smoke monster, after being judged for his gravest mistakes, I'm sure his perspective on a lot of things has changed. Or maybe it was seeing his dead daughter's face threatening him that did the trick.

Either way, I think I got through to him. All I need to know now is if he told me the truth, if he really is going to do what I tell him. After all, he always has a plan; and every word out of his mouth is a lie.

"Everything alright?"

"I was enjoying some alone time." His tone is drier than the sand he sits on.

I bare my teeth in a grin and sit down beside him. I'm glad he hasn't lost his sharp wit and his great sense of humour.

Trying to engage him in some small-talk, he reluctantly responds with some snarky replies. He's still so impertinent, even after I showed him to his face everything that he did to his daughter.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I'm a Pisces."

That makes me smile again. Oh, how I love his insolence. I'm going to enjoy breaking him down completely. Let's start with some difficult questions.

"What happened that day at the cabin, when you first took me to meet Jacob?"

He hesitates, a glance in my direction before focussing his stare in the distance. "You clearly know I was talking to an empty chair, John."

Good, he's starting with the truth.

"That I was pretending. Which isn't to say I wasn't as surprised as you were, when things started flying around in the room."

I'm glad he's decided to cooperate. This will make things so much easier for me. Still, there's one more thing I need to know.

"But why would you go to all that trouble to make something like that up?"

He swallows a lump in his throat. Avoiding my eyes, he licks his lips and focusses on the ocean again.

"I was embarrassed. I didn't want you to know that I had never seen Jacob. So yes, I lied. That's what I do."

For a long moment I study him. "All right then."

I get up to leave, but something in his voice makes me turn around.

"Why do you want me to kill Jacob, John?"

For a moment, I think about it. Clearly, he still has doubts, I suppose I'll just have to force his hand in this matter.

I crouch beside Ben, closing the distance until I can look him in the eye. He glances back before his eyes dart away, unable to maintain eye contact for long. Good, he's learning.

"Because, despite your loyal service to this island, you got cancer. You had to watch your own daughter gunned down right in front of you. And your reward for those sacrifices? You were banished. And you did all this in the name of a man you'd never even met. So, the question is, Ben, why the hell wouldn't you want to kill Jacob?"

Every word hits home, breaking down his resolve until there's nothing left; his face scrunches up, eyes filling with unshed tears, his eyes staring in the distance again.

After a long moment, I get up and leave. I can't help a small smile.

He's mine.


	5. Annie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5\. Vulnerability (allowing someone to help you, or to observe you in a time of weakness or distress, or learn something they could use against you; opening up about the things you care about or your creative endeavors that are dear to your heart)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading this last story, you should know that Ben didn't have a happy childhood. I haven't written anything explicit, but I do mention it.
> 
> Ben's mother died in childbirth and his father drank too much because of that. He also neglected his son and accused him of killing his mother. I guess that explains a lot about adult Ben.
> 
> The only friend young Ben ever had, was a girl named Annie. She gave him his first birthday gift ever.

I’m sitting on the swing in our yard. I’m waiting for Ben, he was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. Maybe his dad needs his help. Ben often needs to help his dad. 

I carefully straighten the bow on the present in my lap, I hope he likes my gift. 

When I look up, I see Ben standing in front of me. He looks really sad. Did he have a fight with his dad again? 

I smile at him. “Hey Ben! I’m glad you came.” 

He shrugs. “Yeah, dad’s asleep now.”  

I know this is always a bad day for Ben. And why his dad drinks so much. It isn’t Ben’s fault what happened to his mother; how could it be? The only thing I can do is to try to cheer him up. 

“Here, sit down. I got something for you.”  

Ben hesitates for a moment.  

I encourage him with a smile. “Sit, I have a present for you.” 

Finally, he sits down on the swing next to me.  

I hand him the colourfully wrapped box. “Happy birthday, Ben.” 

For a moment he freezes, unsure of what to do or say. Confused, he looks at me for help. 

“Open it, silly. It’s a birthday present. Just for you.” 

Without a word, he gingerly pulls the bow loose, carefully opening the gift-wrapped box.  

He gently pushes away the paper wrap inside, revealing his gift. He still doesn’t say anything, he never says much anyway, but his eyes glisten with unshed tears. Slowly, gently, he picks up the dolls that lay inside and looks at me in surprise. 

He once told me that he never gets any presents, ever. That’s why I made the dolls, to give Ben something on his own birthday. 

“Here, let me show you.” I point at the dolls. “This is you and this is me.” 

Still silent, Ben studies both dolls for a very long time. 

“I made them myself.” I take the boy doll from his hand. “One for you and one for me. That way we will never be apart.” 

Ben takes a closer look at the doll he’s still holding in his hands. It’s the doll that looks like me. With brown pigtails, white shirt and blue skirt. My doll has blue eyes and glasses; it looks like Ben. 

After a very long time, he looks at me, a tear falling down his cheek.  

“Thank you.” 


End file.
